Deepest Desires
by dramione0917
Summary: Draco wanders around after hours and finds the Mirror of Erised, and in it, he sees his deepest desire.D/Hr. Chapter four up! After Hermione gets paralyzed by the basilisk, why did Draco seem so intent on visiting her?
1. The Mirror Pt I

Summary: Draco wanders around after hours and finds the Mirror of Erised, and in it, he sees his deepest desire. What will he see? D/Hr.

Genre: Romance, Drama, Angst.

Author: dramione917

Pairing: Draco/Hermione

Enjoy the story!

OoOoO

Draco Malfoy was again wandering the empty, silent halls of Hogwarts, trying to figure out one of its many secrets, when he found the room.

It was an empty class room, by the looks of it, and he thought that it had probably never been used before. It was cold and damp, and dust was collecting, along with cobwebs in the corners.

He had been here many a time—this was not his first time here-when he just couldn't sleep, or felt like wandering the halls for lack of anything else to do.

Or, if Draco just wanted to see _her _face again.

It was like she was his drug, and he just couldn't get enough of her. Her laugh drew him to her like a moth to flame, her warm chocolate brown eyes gleamed so innocently at her friends, but when fixed on him, they were only ever filled with hatred.

He felt like breaking into pieces.

Everytime she glanced or smiled his way it sent butterflies to his stomach-big, fluttering ones, too.

Only to realize that she was looking past him to smile at a fellow Gryffindor.

The sinking sensation made him feel like he had just stabbed and ripped apart every butterfly that had been fluttering around in his stomach. Their delicate torn and ripped wings drifted slowly to the ground, just like their hope. Extinguished. Hoping for someting to happen was like a small flickering candle flame to a bucket of cold water.

No hope.

Draco made his way slowly towards the mirror, having eyes only for the girl whom he saw within the glassy surface.

Draco stared into the mirror. The girl reflected in it turned around, but Draco had already knew who it was.

It was always her. Every time he looked, lo and behold, there she was, staring back at him with those lovely chocolate-coloured eyes.

Always.

It was the girl who had haunted him ever since the beginning of his first year here at Hogwarts—no, even before that. When he saw her at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, he was drawn to her like a magnet. He couldn't approach her, of course, his father would have seen. But still, his father couldn't stop him from dreaming. He dreamed about her, and what it would be like if he was someone else.

Not a Slytherin, but someone else.

Like Potter, or the Weasel.

When he had seen her around school, laughing about with those gits, it was plain to see that both the Pott-head and the Weasel had a crush on her, both glancing at her every five seconds.

Oh, how he wished and wished and wished. Every night at the first sign of a star, he chanted that stupid saying. _I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight._ . . .

He knew it was hopeless. The idiotic chant having no meaning or help at all. But his mother had taught him that saying and he remembered what she said that night. _"As long as you wish, you can have hope. You never know what might happen. There's always hope."_

Draco would do anything, say any chant, sing any song, if only to see her smile at him. Not past him, but smile directly to him and mean it. But it was impossible.

"She hates me," he whispered. His fists clenched and he closed his eyes as he remembered what had happened that morning.

(Flashback)

Draco had woken up as usual, went down to the Great Hall to eat breakfast, and then went back up to his room to put on his emerald green Quidditich robes for practice. He had complained earlier to Flint, but he had gotten up anyways. The Slytherin team had gotten special permission from Snape to train. Him, specifically. He was the new seeker for the team, and as a special bonus, his father had given everyone on the team each a new 'Nimbus Two Thousand and One's. _Hn, that'll show the Pott-head. _

Draco smirked as he did up his laces. _Money can buy anything. Even love._

He grabbed his broom and headed down to the pitch with his team. But, as they neared the pitch, he could see people clothed in bright scarlet red flying around.

"Hn, must be the Gryffindors trying to get a head start on their training because they know that they can't beat us," Flint said, arousing ugly laughter from the rest of the Slytherins. Draco joined in, but looked around anxiously.

He was looking for _her_. His reasoning went something along the lines that if Potter was here, then the Weasel must be, and that definitely meant that she was there.

Draco saw Wood shoot across the field towards them. Wood dismounted angrily and began shouting at the Slytherins. "Flint! This is our pratice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

"There's plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

Draco thought this was actually really very nice and considerate of Flint, but Wood didn't seem to take it that way.

"But I booked the pitch! I booked it!" Wood was now practically spitting and his face had gone red in rage.

Flint took out a slip of parchment and held it out to Wood to read. "Well we've got a specially signed note from Professor Snape. _I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to use the pitch to train their new Seeker._"

"You've got a new Seeker? Who?"

Draco, who had been hiding in the back, walked out to face the Gryffindor team, smirking. "You should see our new brooms too, Weasley. A gift from my father. Brand new 'Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones'. It can easily out-strip the old one."

Flint suddenly diverted his attention from Wood to across the field. "Oh, look. A pitch invasion."

Draco suddenly moved himself from the position he was in to see who it was who was coming on the pitch. Sure enough, it was his favourite Gryffindor, as well as his second-least favourite.

"What's going on? Why'd you stop practicing? And why is _he_ here?" Ron asked Harry, pointing over at Draco.

"I'm the new Seeker, Weasley. And they were just all admiring the new brooms my father bought our team."

Ron gaped, suddenly noticing the seven brand-new brooms that the Slytherins held.

Draco smirked smugly at his expression. "Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and buy some new brooms too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them."

Draco heard laughter coming from behind him and smirked even wider. That was, until _she_ decided to intervene.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in," Hermione said sharply, "_they_ got in on pure talent."

Draco eyes widened slightly. Why did she always have to come in and do. . . what she does! Whenever the Gryffindor showed up in his daily life-even as much as he wanted her in it-she always managed to make him speechless. _What is wrong with me? Say something!_

"No one asked for your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!" Draco's eyes widened in surprise. He didn't know why in bloody hell he said that. Did he _want _to infuriate her? To make her hate him even more?

At once, the entire Gryffindor team lept up at his words and would have pounced on him if it wasn't for Flint, who had dived in front of him.

"_How dare you_!" Alicia shrieked at him.

Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it a Draco, yelling, "You'll pay for that, Malfoy!"

There was a green jet of light and Draco heard a loud bang, but the light didn't hit him. It turned out it had backfired and hit Ron in the stomach. The red-head was now on the ground, Hermione and Harry kneeling beside him.

"Ron! Ron! Are you alright?" squealed Hermione.

Ron opened his mouth but inside of words coming out, he gave a giant belch and several green slugs dribbled out of the corner of his mouth.

He laughed as Ron continued to puke out the green slugs.

The rest of the Gryffindors circled around him, not willing to touch him, but still wanting to show their support.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," Harry said to Hermione, and the two of them carefully picked him up by his shoulders and supported him up. They started walking away and Draco saw Harry being bombarded with questions before he brushed the tiny Gryffindor off and continued off to Hagrid's hut.

Draco could only watch as the three best-friends walked away, the two supporting the third on either side. He could only wish he was one of them.

(Flashback ends)

He raised his fist and was just about to break the mirror—when a voice came from behind him. Draco spun around, and he looked around to find Albus Dumbledore smiling gently behind half-moon glasses.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" asked Dumbledore calmly, as if he was taking a stroll in the grounds, rather than being angry at being somewhere else that was not his bed at 2 AM. "Break a mirror, seven years of bad luck."

Draco didn't think to ask how or when he had gotten there. "My luck can't get worse than already is, now can it? The only friends I have are those goons, Crabbe and Goyle, and in any case, they're only friends with me because of my father. This Pansy girl and some others have been drooling all over me despite the fact that I tell them to go away every time they touch me.

"The worst part doesn't even begin to compare with these three," Draco looked into the mirror and once again, saw the girl that haunted his dreams. Not in a bad way, either. He liked her there, it was like a reassurance that it wasn't reality, that they weren't separated from each other, and that she loved him, as well. Maybe love was a strong word to use, but it well described his feelings of her. He knew that they could never be, but still, he gazed at her every second he could. "No, it doesn't even start to. We could never be together. I have to give up on her, or it'd just be worse, for the both of us."

He stared longing into the mirror, wishing himself to join her there, in oblivion, away from anyone who would harm them, just themselves. Alone. He let out an anguished noise, and swung his fist again and again at the surface of the mirror, trying break it, to let out his feelings. To make her as broken as he was.

The satisfying sound of glass breaking echoed through out the room finally reached his ears, and Draco wondered whether anyone else in the castle had heard. The pieces fell to the ground; it reflected his very soul. Shattered. Broken. Destroyed.

But as soon as he looked down into the jagged pieces, he could still see her reflected in them. _She can't be broken. She _is_ perfection. _

"Reparo."

The glass instantly reformed itself, and the image reflected in it was once again perfected.

The girl's sad face looked up at him and immediately, it brightened into a smile. She was talking animatedly now, waving her hands around, gesturing at nothing. She held out her arms to Draco, and as he reached across the empty space to touch her cheek, the image disappeared.

"Where is she? Bring her back! I want her back. Why can't I have her?" he broke out into tears. "Why?"

"Why not, Draco? Ask yourself that. Why not? What standards do you have?"

Draco looked up, and the image reappeared. She held her arms out to him again, and this time, he only looked at it bitter-sweetly. He knew that it was impossible. She looked confused, and crouched down to his position on the ground, looking him straight in the eye. Her honey-brown eyes reflected what she felt inside. Draco could see compassion, confusion, sadness, awe, remorse and affection, all mixed and jumbled up. She was talking, but he couldn't hear anything. She was reassuring him, telling him that everything was going to be okay, that there was no need to be sad. 

_Hogwash,_ thought Draco bitterly. Still, he smiled at her. A sad, bitter smile. Upon seeing it, she smiled back, happy that he was happy. Her two front teeth stuck out a bit, and he noticed that they were a little bit larger than other people's teeth.

"What do you see, Draco?" asked Dumbledore, soothingly. "It's all right. You can tell me about."

"You don't understand! She and I could never be together! She hates me, and thinks nothing better of me than—"

"Could this person possibly be Miss Granger, Draco?"

Silence filled the room, engulfing them. Draco glanced up and stared at the mirror, once more, not answering. His eyes caught on the top. He read the inscription carved around the mirror. _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._ "What does the—"

Dumbledore didn't push him to answer his _very_, personal question. Perhaps he already knew the answer, just as Draco did. But, unlike Draco, the Headmaster seemed to welcome the idea of them together.

"The inscription? A guess, perchance? No? It reads: 'I show you not your face but your heart's desire.' The Mirror of Erised is a beautiful, yet dreadful tool. The happiest man on earth could use this as a normal mirror, but alas, he is yet to be found. It shows us our weakness and our wants. It shows us nothing but the deepest and most desperate desires of our heart. I see that you think that it is lying to you about that particular person, but search your feelings for her. It will make sense, when the time comes."

"I never said that it was that, that, Muggleborn!"

"Alas, you didn't. Forgive me. I made a mistake in assuming that she was." Dumbledore smiled and said, "We all make mistakes don't we, Draco? Some larger than others, but we all do."

Draco thought about the meaning behind Dumbledore's words, and came to a conclusion in his mind. He knew that Dumbledore was talking about this afternoon, when he had called her a— "I don't think that they would easily forgive that." He said, trying to worm himself out of the spotlight, which was now shining brightly down on him in very empty stage.

"Would you blame them if they didn't? After all, what you said to her was very rude, and very unnecessary."

Draco looked back into the mirror and thought about that question. Seeing her face laughing and smiling made his heart ache even more than it already was. It made him feel knotted up inside, guilty and ashamed to have caused her so much pain. Remorseful. It was new to him, that feeling. He had only ever said sorry to professors to get out of trouble, and even then, it was a quick and sarcastic one. He had only really said it and meant it three times in his life, and the prospect of having to say in to her, well. Saying anything to her at all without it being an insult was an enormous task already, never mind him having to be humble about, it! "I doubt that I could get the words out of my mouth, before she even hexes me!"

"Miss Granger—"

"I told you it wasn't her!" Draco exploded. All the pressure that had been mounting up in his life, personal or social, the dam had broken. "Why would you think of that Mudblood as my love interest? Maybe I could like an actual contributing society member, a Pureblood! She, on the other hand, is the resident bookworm, curled up in her own little worm-hole, coming out only for meals and lessons! She's so daft, but still, that Potty and the Weasel follow her around, fussing over her! It's clear to everyone but her that they both like her, but they don't know what they are talking about! That couldn't be _true_ love! They don't even know the meaning of _true _love! But we're soul mates! We have to be, because—"

He grew silent, finally hearing what he had been yelling. Echoes from his yells bounced around them. _'__But we're soul mates!_' "I didn't mean that last part," he said, voice quivering slightly. "It just spilled out, I guess." He finished lamely, looking down at the floor.

Dumbledore's small chuckle brought Draco out of his slump. "What's so funny?" Draco asked.

"You two would be interesting together," was his only reply.

"What's that supposed to mean, then?"

Dumbledore spoke no words, but his crinkled blue eyes spoke volumes. "I think that it's time that you got to bed, Draco. After all, tomorrow is a brand new day, and maybe perhaps, a brand new start to your personal interests."

OoOoO

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	2. The Mirror Pt II

Enjoy!

OoOoO

"Shh, be quiet. Filch could be lurking around, or Mrs. Norris. I think that I heard them downstairs, so they shouldn't be here." Harry felt vulnerable, as he didn't bring the invisibility cloak. Hermione didn't trust it, as none of them knew the sender and both Ron and Harry had agreed with her, once she put it that way, although reluctantly. Harry thought that Hermione was just being paranoid, but he had agreed to go with her and Ron to see the mirror.

"_I think?_ Harry, this is a life or death situation! Do you two realize that we could be _expelled _for wandering the halls after hours?"

Ron snickered. "Only you would think that that's a life or death situation."

Harry shushed Hermione before she could say anything. "Both of you, quiet. We're almost there," he said, spying the suit of armour.

Both Ron and Hermione were quiet for the rest of the journey, and Hermione thought about why she was even there, at 12 a.m. in the morning. _This is absurd, _she thought, but didn't voice her thoughts. Hermione's mind wandered back to this morning, with Ron and Harry.

_(Flashback starts)_

She had just come in from the porthole and heard whispers. Hermione located the area from where the whispers had come from and she was surprised to see Harry and Ron, sitting in the armchairs by the fireplace.

"What are you talking?" she asked, curiously, her voice traveling across the empty common room.

As soon as Hermione spoke, both Harry and Ron jumped and whipped around. "Oh, it's you, is it?" Ron's ears were red, and Hermione could only wonder why. "What is it that's got you two whispering in an empty common room?"

They both looked around; acting surprised, as if they had no idea that no one else was there with them.

"Oh, it's just tha—"

Harry elbowed Ron on the stomach, making Ron double over, gasping for air and clutching his stomach. "What he meant was—that we thought Fred and George were still in the common room, and you know how they can get when they have any information on their hands. They can turn anything into blackmail information."

Hermione stared deep into Harry's bespectacled eyes. "Honest."

"You know, for the Boy Who Lived, you are a barmy, blundering, blistering, bloody arse! Who in the world would fall for that? Really, Harry, now tell me the truth, or else—"

"Good alliteration, Hermione. You know, I was betting on you using 'bugger', but still, you made your point. Well, now that the introductions are done, how were you? Get lots of research done? Or did you find anything on Flamel?" Harry interrupted, effectively distracting Hermione from her rant. She was about to answer when Ron asked the question that confirmed Hermione's worst fears.

"Oi, that's right. Harry found a mirror, and you see—"

Again, Harry's elbow went up and found Ron's stomach. But the damage was already done. "_What?_ Ron, tell me what happened." Hermione turned to face Harry and shot him an icy look. "I knew it. You were lying to me. Now tell me _everything_, and I won't hex you. You know I can do it."

Reluctantly, Harry had started by telling her about what the mysterious person sent him, when she interrupted. "So you mean to say that you went wandering _after hours_ and decide to just go to a random classroom and look inside, do you? Well, news to you, but—"

"Let me finish first, before you start on another rant, alright?" Harry said exasperatedly. "Then you can go do whatever, okay?"

She mulled over the thought and then nodded and motioned for him to continue. He started again and when he mentioned what he had seen in the mirror, Hermione softened, just a bit. "…and then, about a week ago, I took Ron with me. Tell her what you saw, Ron."

"Well, I saw myself, but I wasn't myself. You see, I was holding the Quidittch Cup, and the House Cup. I was Head Boy, and the Quidittch Captain, too. I was a lot older and—Hermione, you're smart. Do you think that the mirror shows the future?"

"Well, I doubt it, I mean, really, Ron? The Quidittch Cup, the House Cup, Head Boy _and _the Quidittch Captain? It seems a bit unlikely, if you ask me."

"Yeah, how can it show us the future? My parents are dead, aren't they? It's not like they can come back to life, can they?" Harry said bitterly. Both Ron and Hermione cringed at the tone of Harry's voice.

Hermione broke the awkward silence by thinking aloud. "Well, then, what does it show? It shows you your parents and Ron with all the badges and Cups that someone could possibly get. So, what do we get?"

They sat that way for a while, in companionable silence, thinking. _Wait, what did Harry want the most, and what was the thing that he would do anything to get? His parents. _Hermione gasped out loud at the revelation. "What?" asked Harry and Ron together. "Wait, I have to think this out."

_Ron wanted to have glory—to break free of his brother's shadows. That's why he saw himself there, with all those Cups and badges. _

"I think I know why you two saw what you did. Harry, the thing you want the most are your parents, right? And Ron, you're always being overshadowed by your brothers—"

"Hey!" yelled Ron indigently. "It's not like that, I mean, you would feel like that too if—"

Hermione just kept talking, gesturing wildly, trying to get her point across to the two boys sitting next to her. "—so you wanted glory, enough to set you apart from them, to make you the best of all of them. That's what the mirror shows each of us, don't you get it? It shows us the deepest desires of our heart."

_(Flashback ends)_

Hermione was silent, and so were Harry and Ron. She thought about why she was there, wandering the halls after hours, and she came to a conclusion. The only reason Hermione had agreed to go, was of this stupid, annoying feeling she got every time, when she saw _him_.

That feeling, like her stomach was all tied up tightly in knots, and that she couldn't speak properly when he was around, _it drove her mad! _She couldn't concentrate on anything, and he certainly didn't help, with his constant remarks and stupid jokes.

And when he smiled! Don't even go there now. When he smiled, Hermione felt—well, she didn't know what she felt. But it was the most, amazing feeling. It was like she went into a trance, a dreamlike state, of which she usually stops herself before it can get the better of her, but still, it felt _wonderful_.

A voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hey, we're here."

Harry opened the door slowly, and Hermione stepped inside.

OoOoO

Draco Malfoy was again wandering the halls, searching for the mirror room. It had been a few days after the incident with Dumbledore, and he had stayed away for some nights. But tonight, Draco had trouble sleeping, and kept seeing her, waving, or smiling at him, and he couldn't stand it. He had to go see her, even if only in the confines of the mirror, where she was happy to be with him, albeit she was an illusion.

He found the suit of armour, and knew that he must be close to the room. Draco walked this way and that, trying to remember where it had been that he had first entered—when he heard voices.

_What is bloody going on? _He thought, quickly concealing himself inside a classroom. _It sounds like students, but why would they be here, at 12 am in the morning? _

"Shh, be quiet. Filch could be lurking around, or Mrs. Norris. I think that I heard them downstairs, so they shouldn't be here." That was obviously Potter's, and he was about to make a run for Filch—when he heard another voice. The voice of the girl who had been haunting his dreams.

"_Think?_ Harry, this is a life or death situation! Do you two realize that we could be _expelled _for wandering the halls after hours?" _Two? That meant the Weasely-boy was there, too. _

"Only you would think that that's a life or death situation," someone said as they snickered. Draco guessed that that was the Weasel. _He is such stupid twit, thinking that she would actually like him_. _If I were there, I would make sure she got treated correctly, those idiots!_

"Both of you, quiet. We're almost there."

Draco decided to follow the Trio, not because he wanted a glimpse of _her_, he told himself, but to find the mirror room, as they probably were trying to. _I just want to find the mirror, _he repeated in his head. He thought that if he thought of it that way instead, then he would finally convince himself that the feelings he had were just a passing whim. A mere childhood fancy, nothing more. _I just want to find the mirror. _

He followed them quietly, as they had stopped talking and were now heading for the room that Draco had tried so desperately to find. They stopped suddenly, and so did he, looking around the corner to see where they where at. Draco saw the Pot-Head open the door for the girl, and she quietly stepped inside the class room. Glancing around and after they had seen that there was no one there, or so they thought, the Pot-Head and Weasel followed her inside.

Draco waited a second, and then quickly scurried to the door, which they had unknowingly left open a crack. He felt a bit guilty, spying on them, but quickly pushed the feeling down. Compassion would do him nothing good in this harsh, cruel world. Draco pushed his head towards the crack and looked as well as he could.

OoOoO

Hermione looked around at the empty classroom, at least, what she assumed was it was a classroom, but it hadn't been used for years. Dust had collected and cobwebs had formed, making it seem eerie in the dark and silent castle. Finally, Hermione looked at the mirror, but she was careful not to look at what lay behind the glass, afraid of what she might see there.

It was a magnificent mirror indeed, stretching to the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, that was standing on two clawed feet. She looked up to the top and noticed a small inscription, etched into the frame. _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.

_Now what could that possibly mean? Considering it's not in symbols, I could probably rule out Chinese, Greek, Arabic, Egyptian, Russian and some others. _Hermione pondered this as Harry and Ron came in. _Maybe it's in code, like Pig Latin, um, how do you use Pig Latin again? Move the first letter to the back and you add something after it, was it 'wa'? Or 'gu'? 'Oink'? _Hermione ransacked through her mind, thinking back to when she and her used-to-be best friend Elizabeth would use Pig Latin, so that the adults wouldn't know what they were talking about. _'Eyhay, Elizabethway!' _Hermione remembered saying. _'Oday antway otay laypay inway_ _hetay arkpay?' _

"That's it! It was 'ay'!" Both Harry and Ron turned around to look at her, their expressions contorted. It was obvious that they didn't have a clue on what in Merlin's long, white beard she was talking about. _If that's the case, then it should read: __Iway owshay otnay ouryay acefay utbay ouryay eartshay esireday._ Hermione sighed. It wasn't it. _What could it possibly be then?_ _A made-up language?_

She looked back at the mirror and—_the mirror! Of course! What better way to put words on a mirror? Backwards, of course! _

"So that means I start at the right, 'Ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desire.' _I show you not your face but your heart's desire!_" Hermione smiled and laughed at the ingenious idea it was. Harry and Ron still had that bewildered look fixed on their faces. That alone was enough to make her smile. "Do you reckon she's gone mad? Maybe we shouldn't have shown her the mirror after all."

"I'm not mad!"

"That's what they all say, until they come up behind you and stab you."

Hermione stared at Harry. "I'm not mad."

"Says you."

"Yes, says me!"

"Mad."

"Not."

"Ma—" Their argument was interrupted by Ron, who was staring in the mirror with a glazed over look on his face. "Look at me, there I am." He sighed. "Glory. What a nice word it is. Glory."

Hermione only saw Ron as he was, and finally, she told herself that she wouldn't see _him _there, Hermione pushed Ron lightly away from the mirror, and gazed into its surface.

Maybe she was surprised; after all, Hermione told herself so often that her feelings weren't true that she had actually started to believe herself. One glance in the mirror and all of those thought were washed away.

The sun glistened off of his hair, and what a beautiful colour it was. White, but with just a hint of blond, making his hair a white-gold shade. He looked up from where he was talking with his friends, and his light grey eyes lit up with pleasure. He smiled at her, sincerely, and began talking to her immediately. He asked Hermione a question, and paused, waiting for a reply that would never come.

He looked at her curiously and Hermione couldn't stand it anymore. A silent tear made its way down her cheek, leaving a salty trail in its wake. Now the boy looked alarmed, and he was making her reassurances that he would never keep, and at that, she began crying even harder. She remembered the inscription. _My heart's deepest desire_. _Never to be_.

Now Harry and Ron had noticed and were about to pull her away from the mirror when she spoke. "Don't. Touch. Me." Both of them knew what that tone was, and they did as she bid and left her alone, in front of the mirror as they went and explored the rest of the room.

Hermione looked back in the mirror, and saw that the boy was now growing desperate. Hermione knew she had to do something before he got too anxious, so she gave a little smile. It was the kind you give to friends to let them know that you're okay, but inside, you really aren't. Immediately though, the boy brightened up and reassured her again. He held out his hand and reached for her, but of course he couldn't get through the glass. But she might as well take comfort in the boy, though he was an illusion, after all, the true version of the boy would never offer her a hand, let alone reassure her. She too, reached out a hand and felt the cool glass of the mirror meet it, but in the reflection, it was her hand meeting his. Hermione was on the verge of tears again, and as she touched the glass, a word unbidden to her lips slipped out.

"Draco."

OoOoO

Had he heard correctly? Draco could have sworn that he had just heard Hermione Granger whisper his name. While touching the mirror with her hand, and crying. _What is bloody going on in there? What did she see? And why did she say my name? My first name, too, not my last_. He noted that carefully and tucked that tad-bit of information inside of his head, sticking a mental post-it note to refer to it to cheer himself up when he was sad. But the question that had sent his brain in overdrive was what had she seen in the mirror, which had made the strong-willed, courageous Gryffindor Princess to cry? What had she desired so much that it had brought her to tears to see it? And why?

Draco looked to the back of the room, where the Potty and the Weasel sat, both looking glum. Hermione had forced them to back off, but why wouldn't she want the comfort of her friends? _Maybe it's something that she didn't tell them about. A secret, perhaps? But what did she want to hide so badly? _He had been so sure that they had shared everything with each other, and this new information surprised him immensely.

Draco had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Hermione staring strangely into the mirror. Before, she was looking into the mirror, but now he had just noticed that she was looking at the mirror, like any person would to a normal mirror.

"Shit," he ducked to the side, behind the door, hoping and praying that she hadn't saw her. _Does the Mirror show reflections, too?_ Ten seconds later, he dared a glance into the room, and saw the Pot-head and the Weasel with her, standing side to side, like bodyguards. Was she telling them about seeing him reflected in the mirror? Did she see him at all?

He kept on praying that she hadn't seen him, and was relived when he didn't hear any footsteps coming near the doorway. But, when you spy on people, things usually turn out for the worst, especially for the person who's doing the spying.

"Hello, little student. Out of bed, little later than should be, shouldn't you?"

"_Shit._"

Draco spun around, and saw Filch, and his mind reacted with out thinking through what he was doing. When Draco doesn't think and acts, that outcomes are _never_ good. He ran to the nearest hiding place and it turned out to be the classroom.

Where Hermione, Harry and Ron were hiding.

_Shit. _

"Oh, a lookout, were you? Don't do much use, now do you? Come with me." Filch grinned, and all four of them shivered, thinking of what horrors Filch would have in store for them.  
As they walked behind Filch, Harry whacked Draco in the head. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Draco thought about answering that, and came to a conclusion. He was going to lie. "Wandering around," he sneered. "What were you three doing?" he asked, although he already knew.

"Sod off, Malfoy, it's none of your business."

"Yeah, Malfoy, bug off." Ron echoed Harry, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

_These two are so immature, _he thought. _I really don't get why someone so smart would waste their time with these two idiots._

"Get in here, and don't come out until I get you." Filch motioned for them to go into his room, and they all sat down on the seats, waiting and wondering as to what their punishment would be. A few minutes later, there question was answered.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley! And—Miss Granger? I'm very disappointed in you three, especially you, Miss Granger. I thought that you understood the rules." McGonagall's voice was strict and harsh, all four of them wincing at her tone.

"Mr. Malfoy, Why are you here, this later at night?" Snape's greasy voice matched his equally—or even more—greasey black hair, which was sticking up in odd angles, due to, Draco guessed, him just waking up.

"I found them in a classroom, and, well, he was" Filch then gestured towards Draco, "on the lookout, and them three where inside."

"Yes, thank you, Argus, we will devise a suitable punishment for all of them."

Draco watched as Filch left them, and walked away down the halls, Mrs. Norris trailing behind him. The professors were talking, probably planning out what the punishment was. _Please, please, not the Forest. Anything _but _the Forest. Not the Forest. Not the Forest. Not the—_"You four will be helping out Hagrid in the Forest, come here tomorrow night after dinner at nine. Filch will take you down to Hagrid's hut."

He heard the other three breathe out sighs of relief. Of course they would know that—that _half-breed._ He, on the other hand, did not. Added on top of that, was the fact that he _hated _the Forest, along with everything in it. Draco sighed, and looked pleadingly at Snape, who stared icily back at him. _No help from there, _he thought. _But, then again, Hermione will be there, and there's a good chance that the Half-breed will have to split us up into groups. Surely he wouldn't think that the Weasel or the Potty could handle me, and so he'll either stick me with himself or me with Hermione. _He thought that the latter outweighed the former many times over.

Draco smiled. Perhaps Dumbledore had been right about second chances.

OoOoO

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dramione917

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	3. Into the Forest

Search up 'Alone' by Heart. Just listen to it or read the lyrics, and then read my chapter. It'll make more sense, I think.

Enjoy!

OoOoO

Hermione walked with Harry, Ron, and Draco, as well as Filch, to Hagrid's hut.

"Hagrid! It's detention time!" Filch yelled, banging on the wooden door. Hagrid grumbled from inside the hut, and Filch turned around, sneering at the group. "You're lucky I'm not allowed to use the whips, but I've still got them. I polish them everyday, just in case I get permission to use them one day."

"Filch! Stop scaring them and go on back to the castle, already." Hagrid interrupted Filch's speech about how he used to be able to use the whips.

"Have fun in the Forest," grinned Filch, showing them his rotten, yellow-stained teeth. "I hear that the werewolves are coming out."

Hagrid motioned for them to follow him, and then took Fang out of his hut. "There are no werewolves in there, are there?" asked Ron, who's face was turning pale.

"Of course not!" grunted Hagrid, who was preoccupied with getting his crossbow out. "Filch was only tryin' to scare you. Don't tell me that it actually worked?"

Ron gave a feeble laugh. "Yeah, right. It's not even a full moon out, either." Hermione glanced up at the sky, and saw that it was a clear sky, with not a cloud in sight. _There's the Big Dipper,_ she thought absent-mindedly. _I wonder where Polaris is_. _It should be somewhere around—_!

Hermione ran right into the back of Hagrid, who looked around to see who had ran into him. "Sorry, Hagrid, I wasn't looking where I was going, and I sort of just ran into you by accident." Hermione apologized, but Hagrid just waved it off. "Don't worry, Hermione. It's alright."

"Well, it's hard _not_ to hit such a wide obstacle." drawled out Draco, who had been silent up until now.

"You shut your mouth!" shouted Harry and Ron, both angered at the blatant insult to Hagrid. Hagrid, however, just shrugged it off, and kept going. "Tonight for detention, you'll be finding some knotgrass for Professor Snape. He's doing something with the fifth years that needs it for a potion."

"Well, did he specify which kind he wanted? There are at least a sixty different types: Polygonum achoreum, Polygonum acuminata, Polygonum acuminatum, Polygonum arenauim, Polygonum arenastrum, and Polygonum argyrocoleon, to name a few. Which one did he want?" Hermione rattled off the names by heart, as if she had prepared for this. "Did you want me to name a few more? Well, there's Polygonum arifolium, Polygunum aviculare, which is the common type of knotgrass, by the way; Polygu—"

"That one! The common knotgrass one. Look for a small plant, probably less than a metre in height, and has a white and purple flower—" said Hagrid, before getting interrupted by Hermione.

"Actually, the stems are a light purplish-red, and has a long, tapered leaf that is oblong in shape; and the flowers are greenish-white with a tinge of purplish-red." finished off Hermione, who was counting off the points on her fingers.

Draco sighed mentally. What did that girl do in her free time, anyways? Look at plant books and memorize them by heart? _Well, that' going to be the first thing I'll change then. She doesn't know how to have fun._

"Thanks, Hermione," said Hagrid, and looked around to face the group. "Alright, time to split up. One group takes Fang with 'em and the other stays with me. It'll be two per group, and the send up red sparks if you're in trouble. We'll come and find you. If you find a patch of knotgrass, then send up green sparks, and we'll go to the place and we'll all be finished this job and get to bed sooner. Everybody got that?" he asked, looking around.

"Well, I want Fang." said Draco, looking at the dog's sharp teeth.

Hagrid chuckled. "Alright, but I warn you, he's a coward." He looked around, and pointed at Ron. "You can go with him."

Draco stared in disbelief. "How come I have to be with _him_?" they said, simultaneously. _No, I have to be with Hermione! This could be my only chance to be alone with her. How can I get Hagrid to change his mind?_ Then, Draco had a sudden inspiration. _Let's see how brave the Gryffindor Weasel really is._

"We'll go this way," Hagrid pointed down a path heading east, "and you'll go this way." Harry just shrugged at Ron, and Hermione winced and gave him a quick smile and wave.

Draco rolled his eyes and made a disgusted noise. _What does she see in him?_

"Come on, Fang."

As they headed deeper into the Forest, Draco thought of his plan, and knew it was time to act, before there was no time left.

"R-ron! It's a-a werewolf!" Draco made his face look terrified. He pointed to a spot behind Ron, and screamed.

Ron grew pale, and frozen in place. He turned around slowly and looked to where Draco was pointing. "Hey, there's no werew—"

Draco pounced on him, and Ron, who was now screaming his head off, send up what must have been a series of red sparks, which made their way into the dark sky. "Weasel! What the bloody hell did you do that for? It's was just a joke," Draco said, rolling his eyes. _Success! _Draco thought. _I did it! Now the only thing he can do is—Potter! If that oaf puts me with Potter, I will, I will, I don't know what I'll do to him, but it won't be pretty. _

Hagrid came running, along with Harry and Hermione. "What's the matter? What happened?" He heaved out, breathing fast after his run.

"Nothing! The idiot took a joke as a werewolf attacking him, and he sent up this load of sparks. It's not _my_ fault that the blockhead couldn't take a joke." Draco pointed at Ron, who was beet red.

"What? That was a _joke?_"

Hagrid stopped both of them before a full-blown argument could happen. "Alright, now Harry, I know you don't get along with Malfoy, here. So, Hermione, you're the only one that I can trust to behave around and control Malfoy."

"I'm also the only person left. Couldn't you take Malfoy and Harry, and Ron and me can take Fang? Please, Hagrid?"

_No! _Draco's eyes widened and he acted before Hagrid could agree to it. He grabbed Hermione by the hand and pulled her away from the group. "Come on, Fang!" he called to the hound.

Hermione gasped in surprise, and started to object. "Malfoy, let go of me."

"Sorry, princess," he answered back, and kept walking.

"What's up with him?" he heard Harry ask Ron, bewildered.

"Dunno," the red-head replied. "Maybe he's gone mad."

By this time, Hermione was now mad and began to take her anger out on his fingers. She squeezed as hard as her possibly could, and his grunt of pain was satisfactory to her, but still Draco didn't let go. "Let go," she said, starting to dig her nails into his hand. Still, he didn't let go.

Hermione was enraged by now. So, she did the only possible thing left.

She bit him.

This time, Draco let go. "Bloody hell!" he cursed, feeling her teeth dig down on his hand. "What in Merlin's beard was that for?"

Hermione grinned at him, rubbing her hand. "You wouldn't let go." she stated simply.

Draco frowned at her, and looked down at his wound. "Ow," he said, sucking the wound. He rubbed off the excess blood and saliva on his robes, and stared an accusatory glare at Hermione. "That really hurt, you know,"

"There wasn't any other way of getting you to let go."

Draco messaged his wound. "Shouldn't we be getting the grass thing?

_What the heck is up with him? _Hermione thought, thinking that this was going out of hand. Where were the insults? The name-calling? The taunts? This was certainly _not_ the Draco Malfoy that she knew.

"Over here," she called, waving her hand to him, signaling to him to a patch of the plants. "I think that these are it, or at least a member of the family. Start collecting and I'll send up some green sparks to tell the others."

"No! I mean, no, you start collecting, and I'll send up the sparks. I don't know how to collect them, anyways." Draco blurted out, fearing that he may never get the chance to talk to Hermione alone. "I will, I swear."

Hermione sighed, and waved him on. "Fine, just hurry up. I want to get out of here as soon as I can, alright?"

Draco gave her a smile—a genuine smile, and Hermione shook her head. _It's just a trick of the light. No way could he have just _smiled_ at me._

The Slytherin left the path, and found a clearing to send up the sparks. But of course, he didn't. In the time that he was supposedly sending up sparks, Draco pondered about how to break the news to Hermione about how he had an infatuation with her.

_Should I tell her straight away? Or ease her into it? _

Draco turned around and headed back to Hermione, breathing deeply to calm himself. _In, out, in, out. You can do this, Draco. Just tell her the truth._

"Granger! I need to tell you something."

Hermione turned around, her hand full of plants, and stared curiously at Draco, prompting him to go on.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you that I really li—"

"Hermione! There you are! Hagrid, Ron, they're over here!" Harry interrupted, waving back to Ron and Hagrid. "Wow, this should be enough to sate Snape for a while. How do you pick them?"

"Well, you take you hand like this," Hermione showed Harry how to grasp the stem properly, "and then you use the other hand and pull it up. I don't think that the roots will be of much use, so it doesn't matter if they're broken or not." Hermione told Harry, demonstrating to him.

Draco could have killed him. _Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Damn your bloody arse to hell, Potter! I just lost maybe the only chance I had to tell her I liked her, and you bring your sorry arse up here and ruin it all. Well, fuck you! _

Draco calmed himself down enough to ask Hermione a question. "How come they're here already? I just got back from the clearing, and they couldn't have gotten here that fast."

Hermione shrugged. "Malfoy, I sent up the sparks as soon as you left here. You've been acting strangely the entire time, and I wanted to get out of here. Besides, I'd be loopy to trust you to do anything."

"Hermione, could you help me? I've been tearing up the knotgrass, and I need help." Harry waved her over, and Draco had to clench his fists as he watched Hermione bend down beside Harry and help him. She placed her hand over his, and spoke softly in his ear. "So you pull up like this," she said, trying to pull up the plant, but it seemed to strong for her.

Hermione grunted, and let out a soft squeak as she heaved again with Harry, and the plant suddenly gave way. "Eeep!"

If it wasn't enough to see her touch his hands already, Draco's blood boiled as he saw them land on the ground.

With Hermione lying on top of Harry, their faces just inches apart.

Hermione had a quick intake of breathe, and stared into Harry's emerald green eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, and she licked her lips inadvertently.

"Hermione!"

Ron stood there, his face red as a beet, and looked astounded. "What are you doing down there?"

Startled, they jumped up, and looked away, Hermione moving away from Harry, going to another patch. Draco could see that Hermione's face was red, and looking towards Harry, the Slytherin saw his face and stared coldly at him.

_You took my chance. Damn you, Potter._

OoOoO

As Draco lay awake in his bed that night, he thought of Hermione. _What would she do if I just told her, in front of everyone?_

He tossed and turned, and finally threw his covers off. _What is wrong with me? Why am I so worked up about some girl I hardly even know? Even worse, she's a Muggle-born_.

Sighing, he turned on his lamp and grabbed his broom. Whenever Draco got stressed or worked up, he would go get his broom and go out for a fly. Unfortunately, he had just served detention, and wasn't very keen on going back for a long time.

So instead, he practiced his stance on the broom, and trying to will his broom up with words.

"Up," he said, and the broom turned over on the ground. "Come on, up," he tried again, and this time, the broom gave a little hop. Determined to at least get it into his hand tonight, Draco tried once more. "Up," and finally, it jumped up into his hand. Gripping it, he gently felt the polished wood all the way up to the straight tail sticks.

After re-polishing the broom, Draco put away the broomstick tenderly and yawned. "Time to turn in," he told himself.

_How do I get you alone? I will, though_. Draco drifted softly to sleep, but not before making a promise.

_Someday, somehow, you will be mine_.

OoOoO

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	4. Midnight Visits

Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm lazy. And a procrastinator. If you want my excuses for taking such long time, PM me and I'll send you a whole list. So anyways, here you go! Blaise may be OOC in the beginning, but whatever

Beware: There is a lot of lewd language (there always is; it's Draco we're talking about here; but in this one it's 14+) in this chapter. That means if you're a little kid, don't read!

Read and Review!

OoOoO

A sharp knock on Draco's door made him jolt straight up in his bed, his eyes blinking awake slowly. "Draco! Come on, get your fat ass out of bed and get dressed! It's the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match today!"

"Ugh. . . ." Draco moaned, falling back facedown into his blankets, pulling his pillow over his head. "Go away. I'm still sleeping. . . ."

"Draco! Get up!"

"But it's Hufflepuff. It's not going to be a very good match. . . ." Draco groaned, his voice made muffled by the blankets. "I'm still sleeping. Go away already. And my ass is not fat. It's toned."

He heard Blaise laugh and then, "Just hurry up."

Draco groaned in acknowledgment, and heard retreating footsteps. He sighed. "Damn Quidditch match. . . ."

Eyes still closed, Draco stumbled out of his room and headed to the loo half-naked. He fumbled with the door knob but it wouldn't open. _Why the hell is the door locked? _He banged on the door and a muffled response come from inside. "Let me in!"

"One second!" It was Ted, but why would he—Draco let out a sound of exasperation. _Again? God, that's the second time that week!_

"Ted! If you have a girl in there, _go to your bloody room_! That's why we have individual rooms. Now take your lady friend and get the hell out of the loo so I can use it!"

"Oh, come on, Draco, it's just a bit of fun. Don't tell me you've never banged a hot chi—"

"OUT!"

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"Ah, the birds are chirping, the sun's shining, and the sky's as blue as—"

"Shut up, Blaise. No one wants to hear you talk."

"Draco, drink some juice. It'll help cool your anger."

"What the hell are you? My best-friend or my mother?"

Blaise just grinned and said in a falsetto voice, "Come on, darling, drink up. And don't forget to eat your vegetables."

"Fuck you, Blaise."

"Hey, it's half-past ten. We should be getting to the pitch."

They headed to the Quidditch pitch and got to the best seats. It didn't really matter when Draco came out of the Hall because all the Slytherins wouldn't sit there anyways. He was Malfoy after all, and being one _did_ have some perks.

The teams walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous applause, which Draco and the rest of the Slytherins, didn't join in, but nevertheless he watched the scarlet red and canary yellow clothed people mount their brooms and fly around the pitch for warm-ups.

But just then, Draco saw Professor McGonagall half-march, half-run onto the pitch holding an enormous purple megaphone.

"What's going on?" Draco asked frowning.

"Maybe an announcement about the match?"

"Twenty galleons on her cancelling it," said Draco to Blaise; he had needed some money and this was the perfect opportunity.

"Deal," smirked Blaise. "When I win, I'm going to use it to buy myself something nice. A new watch, perhaps?"

"Right, Blaise. Whatever you say."

They stood there on the stands in bated breath as Professor McGonagall lifted the microphone and said, "This match has been cancelled."

There were boos and shouts from all around the pitch; the Slytherins included.

"No way!" Blaise shouted, banging his fist on the railing.

Draco grinned. "Told you I'd win. But really, why is the match cancelled?"

"No idea, mate."

Down in the Quidditch pitch he heard Wood shout, "But Professor! We've got to play . . ."

Professor McGonagall ignored him, continuing to speak through the microphone. "All students are to make their way back to the house commons rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

The she lowered the microphone and Draco saw her beckon Potter over. _What's that about? _He followed the crowd down back to the castle and saw Weasely separate himself from the crowd and join Potter. Draco's eyebrow went up in interest. _Hmm. . . ._

"I'll meet you back at the common room." Draco said to Blaise, and then he turned around and headed towards the direction that Potter and Weasley had gone. _Perhaps to her office? Maybe there's been another attack? But who could have it been? Everyone was at the Quidditch match._

Draco followed them up the marble staircase, making sure that there were always at least twenty or so paces between them, but close enough so that he could hear everything they that they said.

"This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice. They were nearing the hospital wing, and Professor McGonagall continued kindly, "There has been another attack . . . another _double _attack."

Professor McGonagall opened the hospital wing door and the three of them stepped inside. Draco knew he couldn't go in there without being caught, so he hid behind the armour of a knight, thinking.

_A double attack? Who, though? _Draco's brow furrowed as he thought through the possibilities. _Wait—it couldn't be._

A small voice in Draco's head stirred. _But she wasn't there. Not at the match, which she wouldn't have missed. After all, it was the Scar-face playing. And she didn't follow McGonagall here; she wouldn't have just let the two of them go by themselves; no, she's far too nosy to let that happen._

_She's not nosy_, Draco snapped back at the voice.

The voice laughed. _For all you know, she could be lying in there, dead._

Draco felt a sudden rush of anger at himself for thinking that, although he had no idea why. _Don't you _dare _say that again. She is _not_ dead. _

He pounded the wall with his fist, breathing deeply, trying to control his emotions. How could he have fallen into such a mess? This wasn't like him at all. He didn't have any emotions like love or compassion or empathy; he didn't want them or need them; and yet when it came to this one girl, all of his self control that shattered down the metaphorical drain_. Fuck it._

Draco sighed, rubbing his temples to try to prevent the oncoming headache. _I'll just come by later and see for myself. I have to see her for myself._

OoOoO

It was a few hours after the incident at the Quidditch pitch and Snape had come into the Slytherin common room with a roll of parchment, his black hair as greasy as ever.

"Settle down, settle down." Snape motioned for the Slytherins to quiet and continued to speak.

"According to Professor Dumbledore, I am to read to you these announcements." He unrolled the parchment and began to read from it. "All students are to return to their house common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave their dormitories after that time." Snape announced to the Slytherins inside the common room, followed by boos and objections.

"Can you believe it? We're not supposed to wander out after six. _Six!_ What are we going to do for five hours? Sit around and tell stories?" Blaise hissed to Draco who smirked and replied, "Blaise, you forget what House we're in. Rules are made to be broken."

"Quiet. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the washroom unless accompanied by a teacher." This was followed by hoots of laughter and cat-calls and wolf-whistles from the Slytherins.

"Well, Ted, looks like you won't be able to get it on in the bathroom now, eh? Unless, of course, you and Snape are . . .?" Draco drawled, poking the boy in front of him. Blaise and Pansy sniggered, overhearing the comment. Ted responded by giving Draco the finger over his shoulder.

"Fuck you, Draco."

"No, Ted, I think what you should be saying is 'Fuck me'—" Draco was cut off by Ted's fist meeting Draco's jaw. Ted's punch had such force thrown into it that it toppled Draco off of the chair he'd been sitting on and he landed with a thud three feet away.

"What the hell!" Draco yelled, and got up from the floor. He walked towards Ted, Snape forgotten. "You're going to pay for that."

"Draco! Theodore! Stop this instant!" Snape said, raising his voice, but not taking out his wand to stop the inevitable fight.

It was too late. Draco drew his wand, intent on casting a curse on Ted but before he could say anything, Ted pointed his own wand at Draco and yelled something. A jet of light blasted towards him, knocking Draco off his feet and throwing his wand ten feet away from him.

It seemed nothing had been done on the outside, but Draco felt an unpleasant tingling sensation coming from his lower rib-cage area. _What the hell did he do?_ Since his wand was too far to get, Draco did the only thing he could to try and win the fight.

He pounced on Ted, fists raised, wrestling with him to get the wand out of the Dark-haired wizard's hand. The rest of the Slytherins were gathered in a circle around the two them chanting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Draco managed to get the wand away from Ted and tossed it away from the ring of Slytherins. He had punched Ted a total of total of four times—two in the cheek, one in the eye, and one in the shoulder—before Ted gave him the ultimate blow.

He kicked him in the groin. Hard.

There was a collective 'Oh' from the surrounding guys before silence. They knew.

Even Snape winced.

Draco doubled-over from the pain that was searing from his stomach; the wind knocked out of him, and lay on his side on the floor in the fetal position, clutching his nether regions. Draco felt as he was going to vomit from the pain.

Draco squeezed his eyes closed, trying to block out the pain and also trying to stop himself from crying, but all he could think about was how swollen and black and blue his nuts were going to be later.

The pain felt like being if Ted had taken a sledgehammer to his stomach and slammed it against his lower abdomen as hard as he could. Then times that pain by ten, along with the fact that Draco could hardly breathe.

"Fuck . . . you . . . Nott. . . ." Draco managed to choke out, before closing his mouth to swallow down the bile that had come up his throat.

Draco's vision began to fade, tiny black dots swimming around the corner of his eyes, progressing swiftly towards the middle. At the same time, the level of noise he heard began to soften, until he heard nothing.

OoOoO

"Dammit, Draco, how much do you weigh?"

Draco blinked groggily, his mind still blank from the incident before. "What's going on?" He shook his head, trying to remember what had happened before he awoke.

Pansy and Blaise each had one of his arms around their shoulders, leaving his feet to drag on the floor.

"Draco, you got into a fight with Ted, remember? Then he kicked you in the nads, and you fainted. What a wuss," Blaise panted out. "I can't believe you fainted after only one kick! God, how much _do_ you weigh? Pansy's right; carrying you is like carrying a ton of bricks."

"It was a good fight, though." Pansy said ruefully. "I wish it had lasted longer."

Draco let out a chuckle, only to stop when he felt a pain from his rib-cage area. "Fuck, I think he might have broken one of my ribs. Where is he, anyways?"

"Snape healed him back in the common room, but he said to bring you up to the infirmary, just to get everything checked out. What a lazy asshole for a Head of House." Blaise let out a bark of laughter. "I guess everyone in Slytherin will now know our King's weak spot: kick him in the groin hard enough and he'll drop dead."

"Hn, at least Ted'll have something to brag about now. Not many people could say that they've kicked a Malfoy in the balls and lived. Now wouldn't that put a damper on the Slytherin King's reputation?"

"Don't forget a blow to his enormous ego," Blaise added in, grinning back at Pansy.

"Ha ha, very funny. Now hurry up and get me to the hospital wing."

Finally, they reached the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey quickly ushered them inside to a bed. "Thanks," Draco muttered to the two Slytherins under his breath.

"What was that?" asked Blaise smirking. He had obviously heard, but just wanted to milk this moment for all it was worth.

Draco glared back at the dark-skinned Slytherin. "Thank you," he gritted out. "Now go back to the common room and kick Ted's ass for me, will you?"

Blaise grinned back at Draco. "Now there's the Draco we all know and love."

Pansy snorted at that. "Was ever a Draco we knew and loved?"

"Aw, thanks, Pans. It's _so_ nice to know you care."

"Anytime, Draco. Rest up now."

And with that, the duo left Draco lying on the hospital bed, letting Madame Pomfrey check him over.

"Oh, dear. What did you do? You somehow managed to removed four of your ribs and you also fractured one of your ribs. Got nice black eye, too, along with some bruising on your left jaw. Well, those will heal on their own, so wait here while I go get the Skele-Gro."

_It's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon_, Draco thought glumly, melancholy lacing his thoughts. _So that's what Ted did to me. Hn, he probably learned it from that Lockhart fool. Idiot. I hear that Skele-Gro stuff tastes gross, though. I hope not._

Madame Pomfrey came back holding a large bottle with the label on it saying 'Skele-Gro'. "You're in for a rough night. Growing back bones always is nasty time. She poured the liquid into a beaker and handed it to Draco, who stared at it miserably. "Hurry up, drink."

Hesitatively, Draco cautiously tipped the beaker and a little of the liquid slid into his mouth. He nearly spit it out, if not for the hand that suddenly clasped down on his mouth, keeping the fluid inside his mouth. The Skele-Gro burned down Draco's throat as he swallowed the offensive liquid.

"All of it, Mr. Malfoy. One teaspoon isn't going to do anything."

Wincing, Draco forced himself to swallow the rest of the Skele-Gro, coughing and sputtering afterward he had finished the beaker.

"There we go. You're in for a rough night, so go ahead and sleep."

Draco winced, suddenly feeling sharp stabs of pain coming from his chest. _Damn it, she's right. This is going to be one hell of a night._

OoOoO

Draco awoke in a cold sweat, his body tangled in the sheets. He breathed deeply, relishing the cool air, before pins of pain pushed their way into his chest. "Ah, damn." He lay his head back down on his pillow and looked around.

His eye's widened. _Hermione!_

Suddenly remembering the events before the fight, Draco shot up out of his bed, ignoring the pain in his chest. Quietly hobbling over to the bed next to his, he carefully lifted the curtain surrounding the bed and looked at the occupant.

It was the Creevy boy, and Draco hurriedly shut the curtains, his patience thin and his emotions in a whirl. Swiftly, Draco shuffled to the next bed, impatient to find Hermione.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

When Draco finally had a glimmer of hope when he saw a bit of curly brown hair peeking from behind the curtain, he ran to the bed, pushing aside his pain, and nearly ripped aside the curtain to show—a Ravenclaw?

"Damn it," he swore quietly, closing the curtain, concealing the Ravenclaw. _Where is she?_

He looked around and saw one bed near the corner of the room that he hadn't looked at yet. Draco rushed over to the bed and tore away the curtain.

And there she was.

Hermione was lying there, her fist raised, eyes still open and glazed over.

Draco couldn't resist the urge to reach up and touch her cheek. It was cold, but Draco kept his hand there. He trailed his finger down her jaw, savouring every touch. She was so much more beautiful in real life than in the mirror.

Draco could only wish she would accept him like in the mirror.

His hand combed through her hair, tangling his fingers in her fine hair. Draco leaned down and smelled it. He moved to her neck and closed his eyes, wanting to suffocate himself in her scent. She smelt of strawberries and Draco found that the smell was intoxicating.

_What am I doing?_ he asked himself. Draco raised his head from Hermione's neck and kneeled down on the cold marble floor. He used his fingers to brush away the stray hairs from her face. His other hand grasped her hand that lay on the bed, as if trying to warm the cold skin.

What was it about this girl that sent him into a frenzy whenever she was around? From the first moment he saw her on the train, she mesmerized him. Even now, a year after he first saw her, every time he saw her, he always seemed manage to say the exact opposite of what he meant.

"What's so special about you?" he whispered, the hand holding hers. "Why are you so . . . unforgettable? Why you?"

Draco stood up again, and leaned over her to look at her face. As Draco stared into her glossy brown eyes, Draco felt a rush of possessiveness. He suddenly knew that he would do anything for her. Even die. He would gladly do it, if it only meant she would live. Draco had never felt this way before about anyone.

A year and a half ago he would have scoffed at the idea that Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin Pureblood, would come to love a Mudblood Gryffindor princess. A year and a half ago he would have never known what the feelings he felt for her were called. A year and a half ago he didn't even know what love was.

So much had changed in a year and a half. She had changed him so much in a year and a half.

Draco looked at her face, and something came over him. He leaned down, so close that their noses were almost touching.

Draco Malfoy tilted his head, and kissed her.


End file.
